


A Song of Satin and Suede

by questceque_cest



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV), Glee
Genre: Blow Jobs, Costume Kink, Costumes, Hand Jobs, M/M, Oral Sex, Role-Playing Game, Roleplay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-14
Updated: 2012-05-14
Packaged: 2017-11-05 08:43:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,298
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/404477
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/questceque_cest/pseuds/questceque_cest
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam gets the brilliant idea that he and Kurt should roleplay as Renly and Loras from <i>A Game of Thrones</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	A Song of Satin and Suede

**Author's Note:**

  * For [wikkit_key](https://archiveofourown.org/users/wikkit_key/gifts).



> For Cayla, my enabler [2]

“Sam, no. I don’t want to do this again,” Kurt scoffed, his arms folded across his chest in defiance as his eyebrows furrowed with irritation. He flopped onto the couch and curled his legs up against his body, still scowling.

Across the room, Sam looked flustered. He waved the television remote in the air and pointed it at the other boy’s head.

“Come on, Kurt, please? You make me do way worse things than this.” Sam stepped forward, almost pleadingly, and held out his arms towards his boyfriend.   

“Are you kidding me? You always said you liked what I had planned. I don’t appreciate being lied to, Samuel.”   

Kurt’s icy glare sent a shudder through Sam. He padded over to the couch in defeat and cuddled up next to the annoyed brunette.   “OK, some things were enjoyable, I guess. I just really wanna do this with you, I know deep down you enjoy it.” Sam leaned in and nosily kissed Kurt’s ear, causing him to squirm and push away from his boyfriend. 

  “Alright, alright, we can watch _Game of Thrones_ for the millionth time. But, I’m doing this only A) Because I like their gorgeous British accents, B) Because the costumes are breathtaking, and C) Because I love you. In that order.” Kurt scrunched up his face as Sam pulled him into another noisy --and very sloppy -- kiss.   

“Yessss,” Sam hissed as he pointed the remote at the TV and selected the newest episode from the second season of _Game of Thrones_ from the DVR. He settled back and scooped Kurt into his arms as the HBO logo appeared on the screen.   Sam began to hum and tap out the theme song against Kurt’s thigh, his excitement at watching the best fantasy series airing _again_ overwhelming. This episode was just about perfect -- and not just because of the gratuitous “praying” scene between his favorite on-screen couple. Kurt couldn’t help but hum along to the theme -- it was just _so_ catchy after all. 

Both Kurt and Sam groaned in annoyance as the episode opened with Jon Snow.   “Please fast forward this, I cannot stand watching his split ends blowing over the screen, I’ve spent way too much time hypothesizing over his poor hair care regiment,” Kurt whined as he looked up at Sam.   

Sam chuckled and skipped through the scenes. “Do you just want to watch the scenes in the Stormlands?” he asked. 

Kurt raised an eyebrow up at his boyfriend, his brow furrowing with puzzlement.  “Who’s in the Stormlands? Is it Lily Allen’s brother because if so, then no I definitely do _not_.”

A sly grin spread across Sam’s lips. “The Stormlands has your TV boyfriend.”   

Kurt’s eyes widened in realization. “Oh, _well_ why didn’t you just say so? Of course I want to watch the outstandingly gorgeous curly haired knight.” 

Sam skipped ahead in the episode until he hit the correct part. The scene began with two knights in combat as King Renly Baratheon and Queen Margaery Tyrell watched. 

A small grumble fell from Kurt’s lips.   “Sam, I don’t want to watch _this_ part, I just want to watch them make out. Skip to that,” Kurt commanded, his thumb mimicking the clicking of the remote control buttons. 

  “Shh,” Sam hushed. “The dialogue is great though. Plus, Brienne’s a badass and I’m not skipping her totally laying the smack down on Loras. You’ll just have to be patient.”   

Kurt sighed and tightened his grip around Sam’s waist, his head resting against the other boy’s shoulder blade.   “Fine. I’ll just sit here and fantasize that Loras is defending _me_ and then we make out all night long,” Kurt teased, pulling Sam’s sleeve. “And we will go _all the way_ because I don’t have a sister who ruins everything.”   

Sam clicked his tongue, still staring at the screen. “Don’t say that about Margaery, dude, she’s great too. She and her family help out Sansa and try to reclaim Westeros from that little shithead Joffrey.”

Kurt rolled his eyes and continued watching. “What, is that from the books? I wish you’d just tell me what happens. As you know, I’m impatient and I wanna know how my boyfriend fares.”   

“No spoilers, man.” Sam said as he hugged Kurt closer. He didn’t have the heart to tell his boyfriend about George R. R. Martin’s tendency of killing practically every character in existence in the series. 

Once the scene had ended, he fast forwarded through the other vignettes and landed on the beginning of the ridiculously hot make out scene between Loras and Renly. Kurt squealed as the two characters began to passionately embrace and undress on screen.   “Oh my God, this scene just gets better and better with every viewing. God bless you, HBO.” A low moan escaped from Kurt’s throat. “No offense, Sam, but I’m totally picturing myself right now running my hands through those fantastic golden curls.”   

 _Hmm_. A wicked idea ran through Sam’s mind. _Would Kurt be up for that? _.__

Sam paused the scene, much to Kurt’s chagrin, and let out a slow breath.   “Are you crazy? Renly just took off his shirt, why the _hell_ would you pause it there?” Kurt looked incredulous. He tugged at Sam’s sleeve roughly and grasped for the remote, but Sam held it just out of his reach.

“Do you want to do that? I mean, uh, pretend you’re making out with Loras?” Sam said hesitantly.  

Apparently the idea sounded just as ludicrous out loud as it did in Sam’s head because Kurt pulled away and twisted his face as if he had three heads.   “E-excuse me? What exactly are you suggesting?”   Sam ran his hands up and down Kurt’s upper arm. 

“You know, like, role play. You could be Renly, cause you love Loras and you have brown hair and I could be Loras, cause I’m blonde, and we could, like, reenact their scenes?”

He scanned Kurt’s face, trying to read what exactly he was thinking.   “So, I’d have to memorize lines and practice accents? That _would_ would be excellent NYADA training.” Kurt started slowly, a coy grin spreading across his lips. 

  Sam out a sigh of relief -- _Good, he still likes me_ \-- and continued, ideas flowing from his mind   “We can totally have costumes too!” he exclaimed.   

Kurt shuddered in disgust. “I just had the godawful mental image of you going down on me in foam armor. Don’t worry, _I_ will handle the costuming.” He snickered as Sam’s face began to color slightly. “I do have some conditions, though. Firstly, I do not want to sword fight or anything of that nature. Not only is it tiring, but I don’t want to injure myself before my NYADA audition.”   Sam laughed as stroked the back of Kurt’s head. 

“Dude, Renly doesn’t fight anyone in the series, you don’t have to worry. What else are your _conditions_?” he said in a mocking tone.   

“Well, I don’t want to grow a beard. I’m sorry, but the look won’t suit me. Also, there is no way we are doing that _shaving_ scene from last season. It was one of the least sexy things from the show and that is saying something.” 

  Sam pouted and flashed Kurt puppy dog eyes, “But it ends with a blow job, Kurt.”

Kurt kissed Sam’s nose in apology. “You can quote me the lines in your sexy British accent then we’ll see how things progress. Flat edge razors just give me terrible _Sweeney Todd_ flashbacks.”

Sam smiled and cupped Kurt’s face. In his best British accent he whispered, “I’ve never fought in a war before, but I’d fight for you.” 

  Kurt cooed and tenderly kissed Sam’s mouth. He ran his fingers though Sam’s hair, pushing it behind his ears. “I can’t wait to see this in curls,” he murmured against his boyfriend’s lips. Sam hummed and pulled away.   

“We’ll continue watching this episode because I want to see Arya and Gendry at the end, but you have one week, Hummel, to prepare. Learn your lines, watch the episodes, sew the costumes. This is my favorite fantasy series, so I expect accuracy. If I feel anything is misrepresented, I have every right to stop fooling around with you.” Sam teased, quirking a challenging eyebrow at Kurt.   Kurt settled back into Sam’s arms and wrapped his ankle around Sam’s foot. 

“Revoking all making out privileges? You’re not messing around. I vow to you, Ser Samuel Evans, that I, King Kurt Hummel, will do _Game of Thrones_ justice.”

Pleased at his accomplishment, Sam kissed the top of Kurt’s head and began to play the episode.

***

Later in the week after Kurt had finished his French exercises and practiced the splits for his NYADA audition, he wandered into the guest room to find Sam sprawled out on his bed completing algebra homework. Sam looked up at Kurt, his pencil gripped between his teeth, and waved him in.

“Hey beautiful, what’s up?” he mumbled, achieving enough coherency despite his lips trying to do to two things at once. 

Kurt gave his classic eye roll as he strode over to Sam’s bookshelf, but there was a fond smile on his face. He ran a finger along the spines until he saw _A Game of Thrones_ and pulled the novel from the shelf.   

_Oh my God, this book is so thick. There goes my entire social life._

“So, you’re really getting into this, huh? I’m glad, I like when you share in my interests,” Sam sat upright and tilted his head to the side as he widely smiled at his boyfriend. 

Kurt crept towards the bed and planted a soft kiss against Sam’s forehead.   “If you’ll excuse me, I have some reading to do.” He made his way to the door frame when Sam called out behind him.

“You should take _A Clash of Kings_ , too. It has a bunch more Renly and Loras stuff.”

Kurt sighed -- _Great, more reading_ \-- and picked up the even thicker book from the shelf. He turned to Sam. “Do I need the other 3 books?”

Sam shifted his eyes to side and quickly said, “Stick with those two for now, man. You don’t want to overload and be distracted from the fun stuff I’m doing to you,” he added with a wink.   Kurt felt his cheeks flush with heat and he walked out of the room.   “Check out Ned’s chapters for Renly in the first book and Catelyn’s in the second!” Sam called into the hall.   

Kurt poked his head back into the room. “That’s Sean Bean, right?” 

  “The character is Ned, Kurt. Go read,” Sam waved him out of his room. 

Kurt tossed the books gently onto his perfectly made bed and pulled out a tub from the bottom of his closet. In it, a bunch of leftover fabrics from when he fashioned his Lady Gaga costume and remnants of the decorations from his room makeover with Finn were folded crisply.  He performed a quick image search of Renly’s costume on his laptop and sighed heavily. 

   _This is so intricate and ornate. Why did they have to wear armor?_

He rifled through the tub of fabrics and pulled out all the earthy tones he could find. He noticed that Renly wore stag insignia, so Kurt opened his jewelry box and found a brooch that somewhat resembled a deer. 

   _It’ll have to do. Tough luck, Sam._  

Kurt made his way back to his laptop and scrolled further down the page of pictures. Since the boys were going to be engaging in activities that didn’t require many clothes, Kurt figured Sam might let him get away with not crafting metal armor for the two of them.

He did realize, however, that he would need a crown in order to complete his look as king. Kurt flinched as he remembered he still owned his crown from last year’s prom and decided to use it. Nothing is better than creating good memories from something awful. Taking a pair of pliers, he held the crown and broke off various points to give the headpiece a more rugged look. Kurt left the two points in the front the tallest so they could resemble the antlers in Renly’s crown.

Kurt stood in the full length mirror and placed the crown on his head, admiring his handiwork. 

  “A crown fit for a King,” he said proudly out loud with a flourish.   

“Nice try, that’s Khal Drogo,” Sam said nonchalantly as he passed through the hallway. 

“Ugh, the things I do for you!” Kurt yelled as he slammed his door shut. He heard Sam howl with laughter from his room.   

_He’s lucky he’s cute._

***

“Kurt, you in there?”

Sam lightly rapped on his boyfriend’s bedroom door the next day. His favorite hoodie was missing, and the last time he’d seen it, Kurt had been wearing it.   

“He’s not here, bro, he said he needed to buy...supplies? For tomorrow.” Sam turned around and saw Finn poking his head out of his bedroom. “You guys have a date or something?”   Sam flushed slightly and attempted to cover his embarrassment. 

“Uh, no man, must be for his audition. Hey, was he wearing my hoodie?” 

  “Kurt would never wear a hoodie out in public, dude, you should know that. Just go on in.” Finn ducked his head back in the room and shut the door.   “Thanks,” Sam called and entered Kurt’s room. 

He was not expecting to walk into a complete disaster zone; it was very uncharacteristic of Kurt. There were rolls of fabric strewn around the floor and draped over his dresser, pages of hand written notes littered his desk, and scissors, gold braiding, and other sewing tools were scattered on his bed. 

Sam noticed that on the nightstand, his copies of the books he’d lent Kurt were cracked open, with post-it notes stuck between the pages. He opened his copy of _A Game of Thrones_ and turned to a dog-eared page. 

   _What the hell, this is a Bran chapter._  

“Oh, Kurt, what _are_ you doing?” he said aloud. Sam placed the book back onto the nightstand and scanned the room.    _Aha, I knew you had it_ , he thought as he walked over to Kurt’s open closet, his sweater hanging inside. Sam smiled as he thumbed the sleeve between his fingers. 

He was ecstatic that Kurt was trying so hard to impress him with all of this. It wasn’t that Sam didn’t take an interest in stuff Kurt liked; he had spent many an hour calling radio stations with him to attempt to win tickets to various concerts, or shopping for clothes that “screamed New York City”, but the fact that Kurt was going _this_ much out of his way to please his boyfriend left Sam feeling lightheaded. 

Sam walked out of the room and slowly closed the door. Tomorrow was their big day and he needed to practice his accent.

***

After telling Finn that he was planning on singing falsetto, coupled with the fact that it was Friday night, Kurt easily got rid of his step-brother for the evening. Once he’d left with Puck and Mike, Kurt knocked on Sam’s door.   When Sam answered, Kurt thrust a ball of clothes into his open arms and flashed a wicked grin.   

“Put these on and be in my room in twenty minutes. Sharp. The King does not like to be kept waiting.”   

Sam laughed and headed towards to bathroom to change. Kurt bounded back into his bedroom and locked the door. He tore off his clothes and stood in grey boxer-briefs. 

From his closet, Kurt grabbed a forest green turtleneck and pulled it over his head. He wrapped a long piece of brown suede fabric around his neck as a cape and secured it to his shirt with the golden deer brooch. Finally, Kurt put on a pair of brown riding pants and zipped his black knee boots over. He stood back and admired himself in the mirror.   

_You look dashing, your Grace._

Kurt set the golden crown on his head and sat on his bed in anticipation. After a couple minutes, there was a faint knock on his door.   “Enter, Ser Loras, the Knight of the Flowers,” Kurt called in his most regal British accent. Sam pushed opened the door and Kurt immediately squealed in delight.

Sam had attempted -- and failed - to curl his hair with Carole’s rollers, leaving his blonde hair only slightly wavier than normal rather than in golden tresses. He wore a matching brown cape and a royal blue turtleneck with golden brocade edging the sleeves. Sam had on the very loose (on purpose) brown suede pants Kurt had constructed and stood in the doorway; his eyes wandered over the brunette in his costume. 

  “God, Kurt, you look amazing,” Sam said as he shut and locked the door behind him. He took a step forward, but Kurt shoved his hand out in front, stopping Sam in his place.   

“Who is this _Kurt_ you speak of? How _dare_ you insult the King of the Realm. Kneel before me, Ser Knight,” Kurt scoffed, still in a British accent. 

With a confused yet intrigued look, Sam went down onto his knees and watched as Kurt pulled out one of his sai swords from under his bed. Kurt moved forward and placed the blade over each of Sam’s shoulders. 

  “I officially re-dub thee Knight of the Flowers.”   Kurt put the sword delicately aside and stuck out his hand, motioning for Sam to kiss it. Once he did, Kurt pulled Sam to his feet and smirked.   “Let us pray.”   

Sam leaped towards Kurt, practically knocking him down as he forcefully grabbed Kurt’s face and pulled him into a sloppy kiss. He spun him around and pushed Kurt onto the bed, sending his crown flying to the floor. Seeing Kurt dressed as one of his favorite fictional characters only fueled Sam’s men-in-uniform kink. 

The two boys fervently made out, their hands running up and down each other’s bodies. Kurt rubbed the back of Sam’s thighs through the rough suede, moaning quietly as Sam pulled his bottom lip with his teeth.   Kurt ripped the cape from Sam shoulders, his finger plunging into the collar of his turtleneck. He pulled the fabric forward, exposing Sam’s neck, and began to suck along his pulse point. This caused Sam to elicit a deep moan, his hands gripping tighter against Kurt’s ribcage as his hips rutted forward into his boyfriend’s inner thigh. 

  “Oh, Your Grace,” Sam breathed. Kurt sniggered into his boyfriends neck -- what they were doing _was_ absolutely ridiculous -- and continued to nip at the sensitive skin, leaving bruises with every kiss.

“Loras, you must be in pain from fighting Brienne earlier. Let me make it better,” Kurt mumbled against his neck. He pushed Sam up slightly so he could pull off his turtleneck and toss it to the floor below.   

“Time out: Loras never _technically_ wore blue, you know. I know there was a Rainbow Guard but--”   

“Now Loras,” Kurt said sharply -- still in a British accent --, cutting off Sam in mid-sentence, “Do you want me to make you better or not?” He tucked his fingers into the waist band of Sam’s pants and pulled them down a couple inches; they dusted over the base of Sam’s very easily accessible erection. 

   _Pure stroke of genius, Kurt, making Sam wear these pants._   

“No, your Grace, I want to make _you_ feel better,” Sam smirked, his fingers lightly edging around Kurt’s stiffening cock. “How nice of your Grace to wear his thinnest possible pants during his evening prayers.”  Through his pants, Sam wrapped his hand around Kurt’s dick and began to gently stroke him up and down, earning a loud gasp from Kurt. He writhed under Sam’s touch and pushed his hips up forwards. 

  “Time out: I didn’t want to do _that_ scene, Sam. I didn’t memorize that stuff,” Kurt said breathlessly as he looked up at his boyfriend who was biting his lip in concentration, still idly stroking Kurt’s erection. “This isn’t accurate.” 

  Letting out a laugh, Sam leaned forward and tenderly kissed Kurt’s swollen lips. “Screw accuracy, you look so friggin’ cute and I _want_ to make you happy. I appreciate what you’ve done to recreate this and now you’re going to sit back and appreciate what I’m going to do to _you_.”

Kurt pouted for a second, disappointed that accuracy was being thrown to the wind, but quickly began to groan and throw his head back against the pillow as Sam pulled down his riding pants, below his knees, to the edge of his boots. Slowly, Sam pushed up Kurt’s shirt and placed tiny pecks trailing from his navel down to the base of his cock. Kurt threaded his fingers through Sam’s hair, urging him take him into his mouth. He shuddered when Sam licked under the head of his dick and looked up at Kurt, his lips slick with saliva.   

“You would be an excellent King,” Sam said darkly before he plunged his mouth over Kurt’s cock, his tongue swirling around head. Kurt took in a sharp breath and bucked his hips upwards despite Sam’s hands holding him down in place. He dragged his nails delicately across Sam’s scalp; Sam let out a moan as he took more of Kurt into his mouth. 

Kurt sensed how Sam was trying his absolute hardest to ensure that he would know how grateful Sam was for all the trouble he went through. Sam’s thumbs held Kurt’s hips and rubbed small circles over the bones as he bobbed his head up and down, adjusting the suction at random -- _just_ how Kurt liked it. 

He could feel the heat pool in the pit of his stomach, his orgasm building steadily. Kurt gripped harder on the back of his boyfriend’s head, signifying he was close to coming. Sam picked up on the cue and began to pump the base of Kurt’s dick as he focused on twirling his tongue around the head.   

“S-Sam,” Kurt panted, his legs jerking upwards as his entire body flushed. Sam pulled off and continued to stroke him softly as Kurt rode through his orgasm, his come spilling over Sam’s hand and dripped onto Kurt’s stomach below. He placed his hand over Sam’s when the oversensitivity became too strong, and he smiled as he exhaled loudly.   Sam was about to lean down for a kiss, when Kurt roughly pushed him onto his side and hauled down his suede pants to return the favor. He spit into his hand -- “Sorry this is kinda gross,” -- and began a steady rhythm around Sam’s dick. Kurt, too, knew his boyfriend’s cues and Sam’s darkened pupils and achingly hard erection were proof enough that Sam needed relief _very_ badly.

Kurt increased the speed ever so slightly as Sam buried his face into the crook of Kurt’s neck, his heavy panting filling the bedroom. Sam began to erratically thrust his hips forward, so Kurt changed his pace and slowly dragged his hand along Sam’s cock, drawing out his orgasm. Sam’s body tensed next to Kurt as he cried out into his neck and come began to spurt over Kurt’s fingers. Sam lifted his head and made eye contact with Kurt, smiling slowly and capturing his mouth into a chaste kiss.

“How do you feel, Ser Loras?” Kurt asked, once again putting on his British accent. Sam giggled and shifted onto his back, pulling Kurt onto his chest.   

“Excellent, your Grace. I hoped I pleased the King of the Realm?” he asked.   Kurt nodded and hummed against Sam’s chest. 

“I like how you decorated, too. Like, your bedspread and curtains are different,” Sam noted as he fingered the satin sheets covering the bed.   

“Mhm, it’s leftover fabric from when I decorated the room I had to share with Finn. Like my prom crown, I figured I should turn horrible memories into new ones,” Kurt explained as he kissed Sam’s chest. 

Sam sighed and tightened his grip around Kurt’s back. “I’m glad I made it happen. Question though: why did you re-dub me a Knight?”   

Kurt snickered. “I’ve always just really wanted to do that.” He looked up at Sam’s face and whispered, “ _Shekh ma shieraki anni_.”  

Sam stared at him quizzically and raised his eyebrows. “Huh?”

Exasperated, Kurt sighed, “ _Shekh ma shieraki anni_ ! You know, my sun and my stars? That bottle blonde princess--”  

“Daenerys,” Sam interrupted. 

  “Right, Daenerys. She said it to her soulmate, so I figured I would do the same. It’s adorable, don’t you think? I loved her parts in the series; I’ve been thinking up a whole Dothraki clothing line,” Kurt rambled, his finger tracing patterns over Sam’s forearm. 

  “But Kurt, Renly didn’t know any Dothraki. I wanted accuracy,” Sam teased as he nuzzled Kurt’s temple with his nose.   

“Hey, I remember a certain boyfriend of mine saying to screw accuracy. I figured that gave me leeway to say what I want.”   

“Uh huh, sure,” Sam pulled Kurt closer and whispered, “ _Shekh ma shieraki anni_ ,” against his lips. 

The two boys laid on the bed, their limbs languidly tangled amongst one another, and kissed slowly, yet deeply, as they ran their hands through hair, down backs, and along arms. 

Kurt never did tell Sam that in his research he had discovered the fate of the Renly/Loras relationship -- he didn’t want to ruin the moment -- and couldn’t help but think as he laid there making out with Sam how stunningly tragic the fictitious couple’s relationship was. He ran the phrase _When the sun has set, no candle can replace it_ through his mind with every touch Sam placed upon his body, believing he would always share that sentiment with Loras regarding the loves of their lives. Kurt was certain, however, that he and Sam would have a much happier ending.


End file.
